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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24424135">HYSTERICAL</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Charmed (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Charmed Reboot AU, Cunnilingus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Humor, Oral Sex, Sex Magic, non-romantic sexual encounters, orgasm induced magic, tactically mandated pelvic massages</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:08:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,410</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24424135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the world of witches there exists a peculiar ritual that brings balance and harmony to the magic that resides within each magic wielder.  The Charmed Ones are no strangers to this ritual.  It has become a part of their everyday lives.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Greenwood/Charity Callaghan (mentioned), Harry Greenwood/Elder Celeste (mentioned), Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn, Harry Greenwood/Maggie Vera (mentioned), Harry Greenwood/Mel Vera (mentioned), Macy/Mel/Maggie/Poor Dead Tessa the Perfect Whitelighter (mentioned)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous, Witchness Protection - Anonymous Works for Charmed (2018)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>HYSTERICAL</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the world of witches there exists a peculiar ritual that brings balance and harmony to the magic that resides within each magic wielder. </p><p>In their creation, Whitelighters were found to be the perfect agents to enact this ritual re-balancing.  Through their touch, the Whitelighters were found to be able to bring harmony to the forces swirling within their witches by something as mundane as manually stimulating them to the point of even the smallest of orgasms. </p><p>Nothing terribly wild or profound; not even hardly emotional.  Just the simplest bit of oral, or even digital stimulation of nerve endings and just the briefest spike in physical response and balance would be restored within the witch, removing her from the dangers of forces that if left unchecked would rend her body apart atom by atom. </p><p>The Charmed Ones are no strangers to this ritual.  And to this day re-balancing remains one of the few traditional tasks that continue to be performed by Harry Greenwood, Last of the Whitelighters.</p><p>Re-balancing by Harry tends to be very by-the-book.  He approaches it with the same level of seriousness and aspirations for perfection as he would serving tea or laying out a triquetra in preparation for a spell.</p><p>So in the Command Center on days scheduled for re-balancing Harry can be found seated calmly at the workbench as his charges take their turns sitting on the table with trousers pulled down or skirts pulled up.  Each waits their turn, sometimes even chatting with the witch being re-balanced as Harry sees to the execution of the ritual.  These conversations only being briefly interrupted when the ritual ends a small shudder or even the occasional squeak or grunt from the witch on Harry’s table if Harry’s tongue or tools elicit an unusually strong response.  Rare, but it happens.  </p><p>The usual way of thinking sees Harry’s mind set squarely on his duties.  As the witch settles into place before him, Harry lowers his head and puts his nose, lips and tongue to the grindstone, doing his level best to induce the quickest, most perfunctory of orgasms and bringing with it the balance needed by his charges.  And when all is done the re-balanced witch hops off the table and gets on with their day.</p><p>But, as Harry has learned through his many, many decades and experience with so very many witches, each witch requires a tailor made method to bring them off.  In the past Harry has had witches that required rather vigorous digital stimulation and some who could only bear the lightest brushes of his lips.  Others required a great amount of suction and others preferred to be lapped as if cream set out for their feline familiars.  Still others need only for him to press and hold his lips against their folds or clitoris and hum. </p><p>Of his three current charges, Mel generally refuses altogether because, ew, he’s a <em> man </em> .  She'll find another way.  And for the most part she had.  The Charmed Ones’ time with his colleague, Tessa, was the only time she willingly and most importantly <em> quietly </em> submitted to re-balancing.  To this day, Mel continues to sing the deceased Whitelighter’s praises, much to the consternation of the Charmed Ones’ <em> current </em> Whitelighter.  She does it on purpose.  Harry knows that.  </p><p>Just to annoy him.</p><p>Maggie on the other hand does not seem to care either way about who, where, or even <em> if </em> she is being re-balanced.  Most often her attitude is one of youthful impatience.  In Hilltowne there was always some social event that the young witch was either already late for or late getting back from.  If she would have simply given Harry her weekly schedule many, many headaches could have been avoided.  </p><p>More than once Harry was forced to re-balance Maggie in the most inconvenient places.  The men's dormitory just before a study date with her beau immediately springs to mind.  She’d nearly begun to literally unravel so late was she on her re-balancing.  Had it not been for his ability to orb, a group of fraternity men would have caught him on his knees licking frantically at the young witch’s rosy and freshly waxed lower lips in the lavatory next to Parker Caine’s room.</p><p>As it is, despite her significant drop in social obligations, Maggie is still a witch on the go.  Harry hardly minds, though, especially as Maggie seems to have a particular talent for multi-tasking.  More often than not during her re-balancing Maggie can be found scrolling through her various social media feeds or making calls as down below fingers and tongue are fully engaged in bringing about a ritualistic orgasm.  When the youngest Charmed One is particularly distracted, however, Harry does find it more than helpful to have various types of vibrators on hand.</p><p>And then there is Macy.  </p><p>Unlike her sisters, Macy Vaughn is a cypher.  Harry has yet to fully decode the signs and markers of her needs as she tends to be particularly quiet during her re-balancing.  She was, and still is, so often as nervous a dormouse, to the point where her orgasms are both difficult to induce or detect.  </p><p>Lord knows, he never can tell which method will be the one to finish the ritual.  The last time it has been a steady, if delicate, suckling at her clitoris but the time before that they’d gone nearly ten whole minutes in which he’d tried everything he could think of using including the suction and bathing of her nub before he’d had to resort to an internal vibrator that had, again, barely made shiver.</p><p>There are days at his table when Harry truly misses the life he had been assigned to at Hilltowne University.  Before their fates had taken them to this godforsaken cellar Harry could have sworn he’d been on the brink of solving the mystery of Macy Vaughn’s orgasms.  And being a particularly orderly person, Macy made it a point to schedule her own re-balancing around both their schedules.  </p><p>More often than not it was done at his office when their lunch hours managed to coincide.  Towards the end of their time at Hilltowne their appointments became a bit more frequent than was generally needed by a witch.  Mostly owing to the fact that there had been several times when neither of them could actually tell whether the ritual had been completed or not.  They had increased the frequency in an attempt to ensure that at least once within the required time period they would manage to definitively complete the ritual.  </p><p>But also, it had to be said, as a means of affording Harry the opportunity to practice his techniques in general.  It took some doing back during those last halcyon days in Hilltowne, but at least now Harry can better sense the magical click and easing of the maelstrom of magic signals the ritual is coming to a close.  But still, the drive to improve his care of Macy Vaughn gnaws at him.</p><p>As it is here in this new city, with the increasingly fraught nature of their ‘adventures’ re-balancing Macy has required more and more of his attention.  Especially with the loss of spaces such as Harry’s office and the lockable MorningStar breakroom.</p><p>Despite the nearly two years as a witch, Macy can still be rather reticent when it comes to her re-balancing in front of others.  She still finds it difficult to be as nonchalant as her sisters are about being brought to a ritual orgasm in general, even in the service of her own safety and physical wellbeing.  </p><p>And to do so in plain view of others while others are milling around just reading, texting or even having lunch tends to add to her bashfulness.  But these are the way things are done and despite her reservations about the public nature of it all, Macy, thank heavens, never really seems to complain about the ritual itself.   </p><p>Not to worry, though, Harry thinks to himself, ending his nostalgic reverie as he gathers his array of equipment for cleaning and sanitizing.  There are plenty of ideas and methods yet to be tried.  And Harry is nothing if not patient, persistent, and a willing explorer.  Macy had seemed to like what he had done during their last session.  </p><p>Perhaps that and an additional bit of internal vibratory stimulation with the newest addition to his arsenal could be the key.  But that will have to wait until he can prepare his work station with the proper equipment for what he has in mind.  Meanwhile, it’s home for him.  And if he can get to the bath before the younger Charmed Ones return home Harry can have it to himself - perhaps he can wash his equipment and himself quick enough to still be in time to help Macy cook their dinner.</p><p> </p><p>-»°«-</p><p> </p><p>The day has been relatively business as usual if a bit faster paced than normal.  </p><p>Celeste stops by and as per her usual stirs up the hornets’ nest that is Melanie Vera.  Familiar arguments arise; which aspects of the late Elders’ teaching were utter trash versus which might merit just a tiny bit of reconsideration.  The argument isn’t loud or even particularly heated but it continues on through both witches’ rebalancing.  </p><p>Celeste had used her re-balancing as an opportunity to lecture all three of the witches in the Command Center with most of her ‘notes’ being directed at Mel.  And Melanie, who it should be noted has only sat down for him twice since the loss of Tessa and the return of Harry’s powers and only once since they’d arrived in Seattle, rushes to sit for him the moment Celeste stands up, determined to show the old witch just how clear her own directives can be.  Critiques of Melanie’s skills, leadership or otherwise, are just not the sort of things Mel can ever stand to let slide.</p><p>The entire episode had left Harry with a sore jaw and a need for a comb, Celeste being one to direct just as much with her hands as well as her words.  Mel, even with Harry following her every directive to a tee, as usual, rolls her eyes and grumbles <em> once again </em>that, “Tessa was so much better at this.” </p><p>In fact, it is immediately following that declaration that Mel shoves Harry’s face away from her and takes his one fingertip and positions it on the outside of her bare ankle, maintaining the very least amount of contact possible as far away from her center as she can manage without taking off her shoes.  Shoes, whose dusty soles are fouling up the legs of his freshly laundered trousers, he might add.  She grabs a generous dollop of lubrication and one of Harry’s vibrators and brings herself off and the ritual to an end in an attempt to showcase for Celeste just how unnecessary she felt Harry’s oral manipulation really is despite the former Elder’s insistence otherwise.  Her point boiling down to the idea that but for the smallest contact during her ritual Harry’s presence is hardly even needed.</p><p>That it absolutely works puts Harry in a sour mood for the rest of the morning.  </p><p>Or at least until he’s been dragged back above ground by a Macy in hot pursuit of caffeine.  With coffee in hand, he is towed to one of the sofas under the stairs where they sit and share the contents of a container of Macy’s own baked creations.  The delicate frosting on the cupcakes does wonders to improve his mood.  At least until he catches a glimpse of the so newly re-balanced Mel through the glass walls of the botanica.  Harry’s eyes once more narrow with annoyance.</p><p>If Harry, himself, could make a deal with a necromancer to resurrect the poor, dead, <em> perfect </em> Tessa just to not have to deal with Melanie Vera and her snide remarks on his supposed deficiencies at this particular task he would, he absolutely would.  <em> IN A BLOODY HEARTBEAT </em>.</p><p>Although…</p><p>And at this Harry blows out a heavy sigh.</p><p>There was the time he had overheard Mel’s sisters agree with her, thinking they were far enough out of Harry’s earshot.  The only good thing about having Tessa as their Whitelighter, they’d agreed, was her re-balancing.  Had nearly broken his heart, that had.  But when the sting to his pride had eased a bit Harry decided to redouble his efforts to improve his techniques, as the Elders had put it, tactically mandated pelvic massages.  ‘Practice sessions’ had become a regular occurrence amongst those in the Vera-Vaughn-and-Greenwood household that was willing to aid Harry in his quest for improvement.  And to that end, Harry does truly miss his office. </p><p>Perhaps if he spent a bit of time recreating his office in the training orb he could resume his practice sessions with Macy at the very least.  It would give Macy the privacy she craves and Harry the opportunity to finally pin down the techniques necessary to better bring her to a climax.  Unlike with other witches, and despite the as yet unresolved technical difficulties, Harry has never considered it a chore to re-balance Macy Vaughn.  </p><p>Harry could happily spend all of his afternoons sitting before her, lapping at her center.  With the goal of calming the disarray of her witch’s magic and knitting it back into a benign and harmonious whole, of course.  She was always so fragrant, Macy was.  While they were still in Hilltowne, especially at his office desk, whether he’d managed to finish the ritual or not, she’d let him lay his head on her soft leg, high enough on her thigh that the hairs of her mons tickled at the tip of his nose.  She'd let him take a brief nap between his lectures while the soft smell of her sex filled his nose and her gentle fingers sifted through his hair.</p><p>Yes, Macy would enjoy that, Harry thinks.  He will absolutely set up that scenario in the training orb when next he is at home.  And perhaps one in the attic and out in the garden on a sunny afternoon, as well.  They could set up a schedule similar to what they’d had before.  After all, and she would agree, practice does make perfect.</p><p> </p><p>-»°«-</p><p> </p><p>Sometime after lunch, Harry finishes with Maggie and she is throwing an off-handed, "Thanks, Har'," while still glued to her phone.  Harry looks around for his packet of wet wipes as the youngest Charmed One hops off with just the smallest wobble in her legs.  She pulls a cotton towel from the stack and swipes vigorously between her legs.  She tosses the towel in the appropriate hamper and pulls her thong back up before rolling her legging back over her hips.  </p><p>Harry snorts to himself at the wobble and rolls his eyes at the thong.  Honestly, she needn’t have pulled them down at all.  He was more than capable of pulling aside that dental floss masquerading as undergarments.  In fact, it hardly would have interfered had it been left where it was entirely, Harry thinks with self-satisfaction.  He almost never has trouble getting the young empath to peak even on the days she chooses, out of pure impishness, not to remove her leggings <em> at all </em>.</p><p>
  <em> “They’re lycra, Harry.  They’ll be dry before I’m even halfway to Kappa!  You just have to tongue at my clit a little harder right at the end.  C’mon, Harry, I don’t wanna miss Parker’s kickoff speech for Toga Races Day!” </em>
</p><p>He waves to Maggie as she turns to say goodbye to himself and Macy, his smile brightening with more indulgent affection for the young woman than anything truly smug.  He watches as Maggie and Mel run through the newly created portal in search of the monster causing a minor bit of trouble a mere fifty miles away.</p><p>Now with the Command Center empty but for the two of them, Harry sits patiently waiting for his last 'appointment' of the day to take her seat.  Macy prefers to go last for just this reason, likes the quiet, she says when she really means lack of audience despite his insistence that there's absolutely nothing to be embarrassed or nervous about when he does this for them regardless of who is in the room.  </p><p>He's re-balanced many, many witches throughout his career as a Whitelighter and it is all part and very standard parcel of a witch and Whitelighter's lives.  But her preferences are what they are and Harry never feels the need to really push.  He won’t willingly admit it, but he also prefers it when they are alone, and not just for her re-balancing.</p><p>When Macy walks up to Harry's desk he pauses midway through wiping down his face with a moist towelette.  She is, despite their being decidedly alone, still rather shyly undoing her trousers. And surprising him again, when she pulls said trousers down to her knees she does not climb up to sit on the work table.  Instead, she is stretching and laying herself face down atop the table’s surface.  The plump lips of her sex peek out from between her smooth thighs, framed by delicate curls.  And most shocking of all she is already glistening brightly with moisture.</p><p>Harry makes it a point to always be well-stocked with artificial and most importantly <em> edible </em>lubrication.  He always has at least one bottle on hand and makes sure to keep himself properly hydrated himself as having a witch come for her re-balancing with even a fraction of this much moisture is almost never the case.  Especially when it comes to the more elderly witches.  </p><p>For instance, Celeste, since becoming a more frequent visitor to the Command Center requires quite a heavy application of lubrication, Harry has found to his dismay.  But given her age, it’s hardly unexpected.  Although, if he were, to be honest, Charity had required much more.  Even when they were engaged in their ill-considered, extra-curricular re-balancing they never could manage to do without a generous dousing of lube.  The reason for her lack of secretions, she had often told him, was a poverty of dedication, imagination, and or skill on Harry’s part.  And besotted fool that he’d been, he had allowed himself to believe her.</p><p>Mind drifting back to Celeste and his current supply, Harry swallows a sigh.  Replenishing his supply has become a touch more difficult with his much-changed financial situation.  But as was emphasized so many times during his training days, it is the responsibility of the Whitelighter, in their function as advisors and assistants to witches, to sort out the everyday ritual preparations.  Though given that, each Whitelighter is still free to make individual choices about the equipment and techniques they see fit to use in the re-balancing of their charges.</p><p>The sight of Macy’s folds and the heady scent of her moisture seems to be having the strangest effect on Harry.  For the first time in decades, Harry considers forgoing any of his carefully curated techniques and simply leaning forward, applying his mouth to her shining nether lips and working from there to complete the ritual.</p><p>A quick shake of his head and Harry manages to turn his thoughts back to a more restrained consideration of his options.  Every Whitelighter has their own preferences and equipment.  Of the edible personal lubricants available on the market, Harry’s preferences rotate between strawberry pomegranate, mint, and the occasional mango flavoring.  </p><p>Though, on days when a particular whimsy strikes Harry has in his possession special order lubrication labeled ‘cupcake frosting’ that comes in a rather stylish glass pump bottle.  To date, he has only seen fit to use it on one person but at present, she does not seem to require it just yet.  And so Harry sets the glass bottle just little ways to the side of Macy’s hip where it will be just within reach in the event he finds he does need it for such things as easing the insertion and working of certain ritual aids.</p><p>Next to the glass bottle, Harry lays out a set of small vibrators, two wands of varying thicknesses, and a thick, heavy, disk-shaped vibrator.  Harry often makes use of the small disk vibrator in addition to his tongue and fingers for Maggie since she's always in a rush.  Even distracted and scrolling through Twitter or Snapchat or whatever is the hot social app of the day, it rarely takes more than a bit of flickering attention and a quick buzz to send the young witch on her way.</p><p>But Macy?  Macy, his guarded, kind-hearted, shy, cipher requires more… Attention.  Dedication.  A combination of delicate touches and keen observation that, regardless of the time and effort and trial and error required, Harry is always more than happy to oblige.</p><p>"Can you, uh, use your fingers on me first, Harry?" </p><p>He says of course, whatever will work best for her.  Harry files that away for future reference.  He dips a finger in, pressing gently at her opening and running his finger over the whole of her sex.  He uses the slow drag of his finger to part her folds and measures just how much moisture there is.  He pushes his finger in, piercing her ever so slowly and has to bite his lip.  She is so wet and so swollen, from her lips to her walls that even just a single-digit earns him a squelching sound.  She sighs and it is music to his ears.</p><p>But it's not supposed to be.  It isn't about his pleasure and not really about hers either.  It's just an everyday ritual they perform to keep her magic in tip-top shape.  And yet he can't stop watching the way his finger pokes into her and how she sighs with each piercing of her channel.</p><p>Her hips are already shifting when he adds a second finger, changing up every few thrusts.  He sits just as quietly as she is, cataloging each of her reactions when he uses his index finger paired with his middle finger, his middle with his ring finger, and when he circles the wet tips of one, then two, then one again against the rim of her arsehole.  What possessed him to do such a thing is an absolute mystery!  And yet he feels compelled to do it again. </p><p>Compelled by Macy’s sighing voice asking Harry to, <em>"Do that again.  Yes, right there.  Touch me again, right there.” </em></p><p>She's shaking when she whispers urgently against the wood of his table for him to touch her clitoris.  Macy makes a sharp, high pitched sound when he smears her own slick moisture over her swollen nub and begins to rub wet circles over her with three of his fingers.</p><p>She moans out his name and Harry nearly pulls away in shock.  He drops a hand to his lap and <em> good lord, he's hard!</em>  He hasn't had a spontaneous erection in years! </p><p>Even during the brief and terrible resumption of his ill-fated affair with Charity, it had required a deliberate effort on his part to coax his cock to stand for her.  That had been the last full erection he’d had outside of that last brief encounter with that pixie after Galvin's funeral.  </p><p>The whimsical being had stuck her sparkling, little hand down his trousers.  And like with Charity, it had taken quite a bit of actual handling to get even the smallest rise out of his cock.  He hadn't even come close to climaxing, naturally, but the pixie had seemed to have fun just fiddling with his mostly soft cock. </p><p>She had been utterly fascinated by his foreskin and Harry, in turn, had found her amusement amusing.  He'd fed her honey drizzled biscuits as she sat on his lap at the garden table chatting away with several satyrs as she petted his shaft and fondled his balls, giggling every now and when she’d managed to elicit the faintest twitch.  Eventually, something shinier had caught her eye and she'd fluttered away leaving him to shrug and return to the kitchen to check on their supply of refreshments.</p><p>So the fact that just the sound of Macy's moans of pleasure- <em> of pleasure?? </em>  My god, she was enjoying this, wasn't she??  That was a rare occurrence as well!  The ministrations of a Whitelighter, man or woman, rarely brought on true pleasure.  There was something about the ritual and the magic involved that seemed to make it near impossible for things to be anything other than a dispassionate event, orgasms notwithstanding.</p><p>But here Macy is, rubbing her chest against his table, most likely to stimulate her nipples and her hips swiveling and thrusting, pushing herself over and over again onto his fingers, all while she begs him for more.  Whimpering for him to use his other hand, to soak it in her depths, and play with all her openings as he had been just a minute before.</p><p>He does as she asks and when he finds he cannot keep to all her requests with just his two hands he begs, actually <em> begs </em> her to let him use his mouth.  She acquiesces on a rising chorus of yes's...</p><p>"Yes, yes, yes!  Oh god, oh god, <em> yessss </em> , Harry, do it!  Let me feel your mouth all over me, Harry.  Put your tongue inside me, Harry.  Please, I <em> need </em> you to lick my- my, um... <em> Ohhh fuuuuuuck!  HARRY!! </em>'</p><p>He dives in with a gusto reserved only for the most decadent plate of pasties or creamy pasta.  He eats her out like a man starving, slurping, and humming and mouth open to suck and catch every delicious drop she produces.  He prods at all her openings just as she asks and her hips bounce and jerk against him.  </p><p>Harry finds himself on his knees lapping and sucking at her clit from underneath and teasing her first at her canal's opening and then her arse with the tip of his nose.  He worries at her arsehole with a stiffened tongue before thrusting his three fingers into her sex to pull out more moisture with which to smear over her little, puckered hole before licking it all away and starting over again.</p><p>But then her whimpers quiet despite her not having orgasmed.  And he knows, has had to learn all the little signs of Macy Vaughn's near-silent peaks.  She's breathing harshly against the wood she's laid her cheek against and Harry peeks over to see her eyes screwed shut and her mouth turned down in frustration.</p><p>"What's wrong, love?  What do you need?  Am I not doing this correctly?" he asks as he pushes two fingers deep into her sex while rubbing at her slickened hole.  The hole he made shiny with her moisture and his own saliva.  He dives in for a quick pulling kiss and a stroke of his tongue against the pucker before standing and pulling his fingers from her channel, pressing one ever so slightly into her anus.</p><p>He looks at Macy's face again and her lips move but he can't hear the words.  He leans in closer to her but still, her words are too soft, despite how urgently that beautiful mouth moves against the wood.  She shifts with every shallow press of his fingers against her and for a moment Harry loses himself in the dancing of her hips that he himself is eliciting as he tickles and rubs at her.</p><p>But then he remembers himself and folds himself over her to catch her faint words.  Well, he remembers some of himself.  Had he all of his faculties he would not be lined up behind his witch rubbing his erection against the outside curve of her bottom.  Nor would he have laid his chest against her back and begun whispering against her ear, flicking at the soft lobe and teasing her with his tongue as his fingers teased at her bottom.  All in an effort to hear her tell him just how she wanted him to make her come.</p><p>"Tell me what you need, sweetheart.  Tell, your Harry how to make you feel good.  So good you come on my fingers.  Macy, darling, I want to make you come."</p><p>She tells him, sobs to him, about emptiness and needing him to fill it, fill her.</p><p>Her hand reaches back and moves Harry's to dip into her well of moisture before moving him back to press at her other, smaller entrance.  The drawn-out whine Macy makes as she pushes Harry's finger into her nearly undoes him.  And as he slowly builds up the pace of his fingers thrusting into her arse, Harry whimpers his own words into her ear.</p><p>"Like this, Macy?  Is this what you want?  My fingers in your arse.  Will that fill you up, darling?"</p><p>She's keening and thrusting, emitting tiny grunts of effort as she tries to fuck herself on his fingers when he stills for a moment to revel in the heat of her.  Her hand begins to claw at the back of his leg and his fingers gladly resume their spirited and plunging exploration of her back passage.</p><p>"More, Harry.  More.  I need more.  I'm so empty, Harry.  Please, you gotta fill me up more."</p><p>Harry is stunned.  What more could she need?  He pushes himself up and then takes a full pump from the bottle of lubrication and smears it over both her openings before plunging his fingers into her sex.  He works his hands in tandem, staring transfixed at the mess Macy is making all over his hands.</p><p>"No.  <em> Nononononononooooo... </em>   More, Harry.  You need to give me <em> more</em>."</p><p>At a loss for what more his hands could do, Harry pulls his fingers out of Macy and tears at the fastenings of his trousers, quickly shoving them down his thighs.  She needed more?  Harry could give her more.  Harry would give her all that he had; his mouth, his hands, his aching cock.  He would give this witch, <em> his </em>witch everything.</p><p>She's pushing herself up on shaky hands when his grasp her plush thighs, stilling her movements as Harry slides his cock between her legs.  He coats the top of his cock with her drippings before taking himself in hand to line up the already deep red and weeping tip of his shaft against her opening.</p><p>"Yes, yes, yes.  That's it, Harry.  Let's do it, let's do it.  Push it in, Harry. Push, push, push," she pants as Harry finds himself not so much pushing as being drawn into Macy's heat; her amazing, deliriously pleasurable heat.  Had he ever experienced as alluring a cunt as this before?  Had anyone's sex ever been as welcoming to him as Macy Vaughn's?  She is extraordinary.  Marvelous.  Beautiful.  <em> Singularly phenomenal</em>.</p><p>Sweat pours down Harry's back as he works a feverish pace within his witch.  His hand cups her from the front and he steals the moisture dripping down his own thighs to slicken Macy's clit as he strums at her to pull cry after cry from her mouth.  And when Macy shudders and finally, <em>finally</em> screams, it's Harry's name that erupts from those plush lips.  Lips that Harry can now admit he's been dreaming of tasting for the past two years.</p><p>But Harry's done his duty, now, and made his witch come.  Her balance is restored.  So now he works to extricate his still stiff length from her intoxicating, grasping channel.  She's so swollen around him that even with her moisture and the copious precum Harry can feel pushing its way from his tip it takes a bit of effort to slowly to pull himself free.</p><p>
  <em> It's almost like you don't want me to go, love. </em>
</p><p>"I don't, Harry."</p><p>"Wha-?"  He hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud.</p><p>"Don't you want to come, Harry?" she says, having pushed herself onto her elbows and throwing him a sweet but quirked smile over her shoulder.  He's sadly free of her depths but his twitching, angry-looking cock still rests against the crease between her buttocks.  The sight of his cock so hard for want of fucking her is still so fascinating.  And that it shines with Macy’s arousal and continues to weep with his own?  It makes his own mouth water.</p><p>Harry’s attention is momentarily locked on his cock as it continues to drip its clear precum onto the warm, brown skin of her back.  He rubs a finger over the glistening droplets dotting her tailbone before running it over his length to swipe at the juices left behind from Macy’s depths.  He pushes his fingers down his cock and rubs at sensitive ridge and over the weeping slit before lifting his hand to his mouth.</p><p>“Harry?”</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>Harry pulls his fingers out of his mouth and forces himself to focus on Macy’s words.</p><p>"Don't you want to fill me up again.  You didn't come.  Don't you want to come, Harry?"</p><p>"I don't need-  You've been re-balanced.  It's not necessary."</p><p>She's standing now and her hand is curling around his dick.  Oh god, it has been far too long since he was last held like this, gently and dare he think it- lovingly?  How he hadn't immediately come all over her hand he just doesn't know.</p><p>"Oh, Harry, that's not what I asked.  I asked if you want to come."</p><p>Macy pulls at him and runs her hand down Harry's shaft before pulling back to trace her fingertips over the tip.</p><p>"Yes.  God, yes.  I want to come."</p><p>Macy's lips are brushing over his in a ghost of a kiss.  But before he can even think to follow and catch them, those soft lips are moving over his cheek and pressing against his ear.</p><p>"Inside me?"</p><p>Harry whimpers.  Her strokes are light and he needs more.  He thrusts into Macy's fist but her strokes remain unchanged.  Desperation knocks his words loose and they tumble out of him in a rush.</p><p>"Please, yes.  I want to come inside you, Macy.  Only you.  <em> Please, darling, let me put my cock back inside you</em>.  Let me fuck you until I come."</p><p>"Okay, Harry, c’mon.  Let’s get you back inside.  Let’s re-balance <em>you</em>."</p><p>Harry puts his hands on her bottom thinking to lift her onto the table when once again she turns to face away from him.  He watches in fascination as Macy fills her hand with several pumps from his bottle, the scent, so similar to her baked goods, filling the air.  He watches breathlessly as Macy reaches behind herself to let the thick fluid drop down onto her arse and run in a thick rivulet between her plush cheeks.  With her own fingers Macy pushes the lubrication into the crease, spreading herself to allow it run over all of her.  She does it again and pours another handful over her arsehole with one hand while guiding Harry's hand to her with the other.  After she brings his fingers back to her entrances, Macy turns away again, lowering her face to his table.  She lifts her arse in offering to him and braces herself on her elbows to wait for him.</p><p>Harry slides his flattened hand over the river of moisture Macy has created for him, spreading it up and down from her clit to her smaller hole.  She shivers and he takes a moment to plunge his fingers into her sex, playing with her until her voice is thin and squeaking as she asks him, "Is that where you want to be, Harry?  You can come inside me in there if you want.  Is that what you want, Harry?"</p><p>His answer is a barely audible, "No."</p><p>"Then show me where you want to put your cock, Harry.  I'm all yours, Harry.  You know that.  <em> Just yours</em>."</p><p>She groans and Harry comes to the realization that Macy has reached under herself and is stroking at her clit.  His fingers join hers and together they stroke her until she comes again, shaking and sobbing obscenities into his work table.</p><p>"Now, Harry.  I need you to be inside me <em> now </em>."</p><p>Harry cups his hand and rakes his curled fingers through her dark folds, gathering the mix of lubrication and her own juices in his palm.  Harry smears it over himself and swears, trying to bite down on his arousal so as not to come before he's had a chance to taste, so to speak, the gift Macy is offering him.</p><p>Cock in hand, Harry pauses.  Her voice urges him on and Harry takes a slow moment to push at her arsehole with his bell end before pulling back again.  <em> Dammit, Harry, come on...</em> he hears her swear and but for his singular focus on piercing this sweet, little hole, Harry would laugh at her impatience.  He blesses the little pucker with more of the moisture before teasing it open with the gentle prodding of his thumb.  He leans down to kiss and lick at her ear and squeeze her hand before standing up again.</p><p>"Macy, love, you are so beautiful," he whispers just as he's stuffing the fat tip of his cock in just past the crown.  Her arsehole swallows him greedily.  And when he tugs his hips back Macy gasps his name as her spasming ring of muscle catches on the ridge of his cockhead and she is tugged along with him.  A whine leaves Harry's throat and he's throwing his head back as the heat and tightness blasts pleasure through him.</p><p>"Oh god, Harry.  Fuck, Harry, keep going.  C'mon, c’mon, keep going.  All the way, that's it.  That’s it, Harry.  Push that beautiful cock all the way inside me."</p><p>He's lightheaded and dazed when he sinks the last inch of himself inside her.  But as soon as Harry's sack brushes against the warmth of Macy's nether lips his hips are pulling back and then sinking him back in.  His hands clasp at her hips and his cock is a piston driving into her.  He wants to speak, wants to cry out in pleasure but every breath is stolen from him.  His eyes are locked on his cock as it moves in and out of Macy's arse, her tight ring pulling at him and driving him so wild Harry cannot hardly control his own body.</p><p>There are sounds, embarrassing sounds no doubt, that Harry utters in the wild pursuit of his release.  And there are words, lovely, encouraging words that spill from Macy's even as he collapses against her back, still rutting into her impossibly tight passage.  Harry's hips thrust roughly against hers, the tips of his dress shoes scrabbling for purchase on the stone floor as he tries to lift himself higher, push himself deeper, slam himself harder into his beloved witch's arse.</p><p>Harry pulls his cock halfway out of her and she cries out to him, begging him not to leave her.  Harry doesn't leave her, assures her that he could never, but then uses the leverage to allow him to fuck himself into oblivion, rubbing his tip frantically inside her until... oh lord, until...</p><p>"Lord, Macy.  <em> LORD </em> .  You're so tight.  Ohhhh, so <em> tight </em> , fuuuuuuck. I'M COMING. MACY.  OH FUCK.  <b> <em>MACY</em> </b>."</p><p> </p><p>-»°«-</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, Harry is dragged over to a sofa in a darker corner of the Command Center.  For the moment, he is laying bonelessly and fully dressed but for his shoes, over its length.  Harry is drowsy and <em>happy</em>, of all things and the woman that has stolen his heart and wrung out his cock is draped just as languorously over him.  To Harry's utter astonishment she seems to be just as happy as he, humming and pressing soft kisses to his neck and the underside of his jaw.</p><p>Harry has no real recollection of his pants being pulled up and his spent cock being wiped down and tucked away.  Nor any of Macy cleaning the mess of their lovemaking from between her legs and her buttocks before pulling her own trousers back up over her luscious hips.  The last part before her re-dressing, Harry mourns.  </p><p>He would have liked to see her arsehole dripping with his come.</p><p>"Next time, Harry."</p><p>"Next time?" he asks in wonderment.  There was going to be a next time??</p><p>"Oh yeah." She pulls him down for a kiss, their first kiss.  "There’s definitely going to be a next time.”</p><p>“When?”</p><p>“Harry!” Macy laughs, swatting at the hand that has found its way between her legs.  He removes it and cups her cheek to pull <em> her </em> in for another kiss.  But for her part, Macy lets her hand drift over his chest to cup at his crotch.  She gives the soft length a squeeze and chuckles into Harry’s mouth as it twitches under her palm.  Harry pulls away to stare at her hand in shock.  </p><p>Macy feels him grow harder, longer and <em>thicker</em> in her soft grip and she works to open the button and zipper she’d done up not a few minutes ago, eager to observe the stiffening of Harry’s cock.  Oh wow, Harry’s very pretty and very <em>uncircumcised </em> cock.  Macy’s mouth actually waters at the thought of all the new things she was about to learn, her experiences having been confined to all of two, most definitely circumcised penises.  Her lips practically tingle in anticipation and she imagines she can already feel him against her tongue.  She’s caught staring (and licking her lips) and Macy fights off a blush.</p><p>“Get us home right now and ‘next time’ can be as soon as you’re hard enough for us to get you inside me.  Unless, of course, you need a moment?”</p><p>The reply from her Whitelighter is nothing short of lunging over her and sealing his mouth to hers as he orbs them out of the Command Center.</p><p> </p><p>-»°«-</p><p> </p><p>Later, but not that much later Macy registers Harry crying out above her, announcing his impending climax.  And she swears that at the moment the first drop of Harry’s cum hits the back of her throat that she feels something click inside him.  She flattens and curls her tongue against the underside of Harry’s penis and sucks at the v-shaped ridge.  Macy moans her encouragement and slides down further along his length until she's certain he can feel her throat work to swallow down every drop of cum that streams from his salty-sweet tip. </p><p>After, Harry crashes onto his back panting.  Macy gives Harry one last pull before letting him fall out of her tired and happily used mouth.  She watches in fascination as the not-quite-as-reddened tip is swallowed up by his foreskin.  She presses a kiss to the tired appendage as it continues to contract and nestle back into the thatch of wild, dark brown hair. </p><p>Macy clambers up onto her bed and with some coaxing gets Harry to pull himself fully onto the mattress next to her.  When he flops back down, face artlessly mashed into her chest she feels it again, a solidness that speaks of harmony between human flesh and the magic of the cosmos.</p><p>“How do you feel, Harry?” she whispers while running her hand through his hair.</p><p>“Goommff…” comes his answer, more of a grunt of air that tickles her nipple than anything resembling a real word.</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>The Whitelighter lifts his head only just enough for her to catch his eye before whispering a tired and dopey, “Good.  <em> Balanced</em>.”  He snorts at his own joke and Macy huffs and rolls her eyes as she's expected to do but chuckles just the same.  <em> Such a dork. </em></p><p>She can see the twinkle in his eye and she suspects that the dry humor of Harry's tone is an indication of how much he <em> doesn’t </em> realize truth of his words.</p><p>“Only…”</p><p>“Only what, Harry?”</p><p>Macy gasps as the Whitelighter’s clever fingers sneak their way between her once again dewy folds and trace over the edges of her sex's opening.</p><p>“I didn’t get to see…”</p><p>“See what, Harry?” Macy whispers, eyes locked on Harry’s.</p><p>His next words are quiet but not in the least bit shy.</p><p>“I didn’t get to see you dripping with my cum.”</p><p>“Next time, Harry, I promise.  Next time you come inside me here," she drops a hand to join his and holding him against her, "we’re gonna make a great, big, fucking mess and you can look all you want.  And then you can use that gorgeous mouth and this amazing tongue of yours to clean me up.”</p><p>She feels him shudder at her words and her body answers with a rush of moisture against the fingers still trapped between her legs.</p><p>“Very well, <em> next time. </em>”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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